San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-02-16

| caugnt ana utilised Dy me nrst conner Ma
/ turally young men like n girl with money,
and i very much doubt II Maud's talented
| idols would not be OF very much the same
! opinion as the poor fellows she insists on
clubbing uncle Rllph's PhiliStines.' Where
on earth she gets her romance from I'm sure
l can't tell-not from me, that's certainr'
"Humphl No; eXOnerate her fully
from that charge" muttered Jack.
"But, 10 cut long story short" the letter
went on, ''she was nying the other day
about some 'SignOT or other, when Sir
Ralph turned on her and told her plainly
that, il she married an artist of any kind not
one penny of his money would she ever see.
Maude never said word on the subject;
but her thoughts were pretty evident Lord
James BERTHE proposed TO her the next day,
and, though he was IN every way most suit
able, and the match would have been most
pleasing To Sir Ralph, the headstrong girl
scarcely gave the poor young man time to
finish his proposal ere she refused him.
Naturally, her uncle, whose heart was set
on the match, is ANNOYED; and between the
two feel very wretched. So am writing
to ask a great favor Of you, namely, 10 re-
ceive Maude on visit for a little while.
81 have told her of my intention to write
TO you on this subject and she seems TO
catch at the idea OF getting away from home;
in fact romantic and foolish even as she is,
she feels the difficulty Of her position as re-
cards her uncle. Her only message is-'Tell
Margaret IL she will really have me- let IL
be as her cousin in name as well as In fact
For Heavens sake, let me for little while
drop Miss Alverton, the heiress," and en-
Joy myself as plain "Maude Thornleigh."
Now, my dear Margaret, can and will you
grant this request? L need not try to des-
cribe what a relief 1t will be to me, IL you
do. Please explain all this to your husband
for me.
II consider l am asking greater favor,
In begging you to receive Maude this way,
than I should dare to hope for from any
one but your fathers daughter; but let me
add that consider this visit entirely my
affair, and that will not hear Of your be-
ing put to any expense which know, with
your limited means, you can Ill afford.
am particularly anxious that Maude should
see an entirely different phase of life from
that to which she has lately been accus-
toned; and your dear husbands being an
artist Is an additional advantage"
$50 that's it, is it?" laughed Jack.
THE old lady wishes her impression
able daughter to have a nearer view of
Bohemia, l seel Well, perhaps she's
right"-with half-sigh. Our life is
quite humdrum enough to knock on
the head all brilliant idealisations of
an artists life. Never mind, little
woman" he added quickly, noticing
his wife'S grieved look; IF we are not
a pair of Cr9suses, there's enough for
bread and water, and even at times for
cheese. Kisses are gratis; so there's
not much to complain of in the life;
and, even if you do darn socks, dear
heart, instead of making the pure en-
broidery of old days, confess l am not
Bohemian enough to prefer worn hose
to neatly-mended ones"
"But, you see, Jack, the point is, do
owe aunt Eleanor great deal; she was
very good to me when dear father died.
and | should like TO help her, for |
know her step-daughter tries her a
good bit"
Bound to, if the girls worth her
salt" muttered Jack.
"But I don't" continued Mrs. Mel
ford, like the notion of this absurd
farce about her name, or of your being
bored by fashionable aesthetic young
lady, such as Maude is described by
every one to be"
well, the change of name won't
bother me, and, as to the neighbOrs,
there is no one will care two straws if
she calls herself Miss Smith or Miss
Alverton.' L confess | shall grudge
losing our tete-d-tetes little; but still, If
it's a case of your being able to do a
Kindness to person you feel grateful
to, I'll offer myself up on the altar of
your gratitude. Besides, I've always
the studio as refuge; so, on the whole,
my share of the sacrifice is not alarm
ing. I'm far more sorry for you, for l
see plainly enough this step-cOusin of
yours will tax you pretty severely.
Well, if 'twere done, 'twere best done
quickly; so sit down. and write to your
respected aunt that we will do our best
for her art-stricken daughter"
Margaret Melford acted on her hus-
bands suggestion, and in few days
received letter announcing that Miss
Alyert0n, alias ThOrnleigh would ar
rive on the following day. According
ly at the proper time Margaret was at
the station, watching for her cousins
train. She had not seen Maude since
their childhood, as, during her later
visits to Mrs. Alverton, Maude had
been at school.
When the train stopped, girl alight-
ed from a tirst-class carriage, and
looked about her somewhat helplessly.
She being the only lady who left the
train, Margaret went up to her and in
trOduced herself. In a few minutes,
bright active little Mrs. Melford had
collected her Cousins various boxes,
and consigned them to the care of a
porter; then, turning to Maude, she
said
Our house is quite close to the sta
ton, and the man will bring your lug
gage over safely-that is" she added,
looking inquiringly at her companion,
IF you are sure you won't mind the
walk"
NO, thanks; the air is so delicious,
pray let us walk"
They presented a striking contrast.
Both were gOod-loOking, well-bred wo-
men; but, while Mrs. MelfOrd was a
tiny brunette, all life, energy, and fun,
whose trim dainty dress seemed the
only possible garment for her pretty
figure, Miss AlvertOn was stately,
dreamy blonde, her undeniably beauti-
full face sadly marred by its languid
discontinued expression, woman to
whom luxury seemed an actual neces-
sity.
They passed along the lane that led
to Hillside COttage-the MelfOrds'
home = in almost unbrOken silence,
Margaret wondering whether this was
her cousins usual manner, and, if it
was, how she and Jack we're ever going
to stand it; but the exclamation of de-
light that broke from Maude when
they reached the garden-gate reas-
sured her somewhat.
The scene was certainly lovely. The
cottage was built on the side of hill
whence its name-slOping gently down
to the little trout-Stream that rushed
along at the bottom of the valley, the
hill on the opposite side rising steeply
and thickly wooded; the view to the
right was shut in by the hills, while to
the left il embraced a fertile plain